Salvation
by Cymoril Avalon
Summary: Bakura Ryou hates it when people touch what is his. Disgusted with others coveting his little songbird, he sets out to claim her as his own, though his method of protection is less than savory.


Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh. Don't you ever get tired of hearing that?

Author's Note: Happy birthday, Silvie-chan! Here is your Insane!Ryou one-shot, complete with some screamshipping goodness.

* * *

I smoothed her hair out, tendrils the color of blood made only darker by the pool of liquid she lay in. I giggled softly, running a tongue along the wounds in her bare back, delighting in the sudden gasp of breath she took. She began to squirm again, move again for the first time in a long time, and I had to hold her down.

"Hush, little one," I crooned, smoothing her hair again while almost brutally pushing her back against the bed. When she quieted – more out of exhaustion than anything else, I'd wager; we'd been at this work of art for quite some time now – I sat back and admired the beginnings of my handiwork across the palette of her flesh.

She was my property, my sweetly singing bird, and she had begun to stray. She favored my other self, I knew; always pressing me with questions about him, almost rubbing it in the way she preferred his gentle hands over mine, never understanding that he was just using her, manipulating her, giving her what he knew she wanted. She had been disappointed whenever she realized it was me she was speaking to, though she tried to hide it behind her insufferable politeness. She professed to caring for me, cuddling with me at every opportunity, resting her pretty little head against my shoulder and whispering secrets in my ear.

But I knew better.

She was always so distant with me, and she was not with him. When he forced his way out, a fire lit up her eyes and seemed to make her positively glow. He awakened something within her that I had been unable to coax out. His deliberate ministrations had made her somehow more _alive_, though I never knew his motives; he did not deign to share such information with a being like me. Instead I had to bite my lip and watch as he took her for his own.

And I hated him for it.

So now I had locked him within his soul room, delighting in his anguished cries as he watched, helplessly, as I reclaimed her as my own. I was destroying carefully laid plans, I knew, and took as much enjoyment in that as I did in my work. My little bird was mine, mine, mine, and I would allow no other to touch her, not even my other half. It was well past time that I claimed her, displayed her to the world as _mine_.

I giggled as I took up my knife again – the polished blade dulled with dried blood, but looking oh so very delicious – and began my careful, precise carving once more. She let out a muffled cry from behind her gag and tried to squirm again, but I was able to hold her still. Her arms were bound and attached to her headboard almost painfully, and after the first few drawn-out cuts I had had to bind her legs as well; who knew she could thrash so beautifully!

"Don't cry, my little bird," I said to her in a sing-song voice as I worked, so carefully slicing the pale flesh, watching as a river of blood welled up and dribbled onto the mattress. "I won't let you die, my pretty one. Just a little bit more, and then it'll be done! Aren't you excited?"

I leaned forward, heedless of the blood seeping into my shirt, and kissed her tear-stained cheek lovingly. Her beautiful amber eyes opened, filled with fear and loathing and pain, such delicious emotions that made me want to just shuck off my clothes and take her then and there.

But there was work to be done.

"It will be done soon, dear heart," I whispered into her ear, gently nipping at her skin. "And then we can finally be together. He will never come between us ever, ever again."

I settled back and placed blade to skin again, giggling as she sobbed and whimpered, wondering what her screams would sound like if I removed her gag. Likely far too distracting, so I left it there, and continued with my work, speaking conversationally to distract her...and my other half.

"He took my other bird away from me," I said softly, twisting the knife, shivering as the flesh tore. "He whispered pretty words in her ear, and made her sing for him. He turned her against me, and then finally stole her away. He changed her, twisted her, tainted her until she was no longer the little bird I knew. She was no longer the little sister I had grown up with."

I moved further down her back, lapping up the blood that was in the way of my creation, almost giggling against her skin as she tried to scream. Oh yes, her voice was likely as lovely as my sister's, screaming until a raw and bloodied throat would force her to silence. I longed to hear that, longed to hear her sing for me all night long, but that would wait. It seemed too many things would have to wait.

"So I did the only thing I could do," I continued. "You must understand, she was no longer my sister. She was a grotesque caricature of a human being, and I could not save her as I am saving you. I was less experienced then and did not hold the power that I do today. That, my darling bird, is why you will not die this night, but also why I had to let Amane go."

I sighed softly, pausing to concentrate on my task. The texture would have to be perfect. Finally satisfied, I grabbed the tattered remains of her shirt and wiped away the blood, patting her skin almost soothingly, reveling in the angry red lines running along her entire back. My masterpiece was done, and I could not stop the pride from swelling up in my chest. I had saved my little bird, I had put my final mark on her, and now no one, _no one_, would come between us.

I rested my weight over hers, ignoring her muffled squeals of pain, and noted with distaste that her eyes were closed and there were fresh tears on her cheeks. She should have been happy! She should have been grateful that I had saved her!

I gripped her hair tightly and pulled her head back.

"Look at me!" I growled softly. Her eyes slid open nervously, locking with mine. "That's better, my little bird. Much, much better. Aren't you grateful that I saved you, dear one?"

I frowned. She didn't seem grateful at all. If anything, she seemed more frightened of me than before, though her gaze was dulled with pain.

I leaned close, lips almost touching her. "Do you want to know what happened to my sister?" I breathed. Without waiting for her response, I continued. "She screamed for me all night, so beautifully, so musically, just like the little bird she was. Screamed and cried and pleaded for me to stop, but you know what? I think she liked it. And I couldn't stand it. So I silenced her screams."

I pulled back enough to see the stricken look in her eyes, the fresh fear, and I laughed, sounding more like my other selfthan ever before. It was so useful having a darker half everyone was afraid of, drawing all of their attention and leaving me in the shadows, able to do what I wished undisturbed. No one ever expected this sort of behavior out of me, and when they happened to witness something that did not sit well with them…well, it was easily attributed to _him_, a convenience I took advantage of rather often.

However, tonight, I did not hide. I wanted her to know who had claimed her, who had saved her from whatever fate he had planned for her.

Tenderly, I took the gag from her mouth, watched with passive amusement as she worked feeling back into her jaw. It took a few minutes, while I waited patiently, eyes occasionally darting across the beautiful picture I had carved into her unwilling flesh. I gleefully traced the lines and curves, the blood still smeared across her pale skin, the wounds angry and red.

My gaze was drawn back to her when she spoke, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Why, Ryou?"

I giggled, pushing back my anger that she would dare question me when it was clear I was saving her pretty little neck. I carefully wiped away her tears with my thumbs, stroking her soft skin soothingly before reaching up to undo her binds.

"Because you're my little bird," I informed her gaily. "And what better gift to give my little bird than wings, my dear? You are _my_ little bird, and now everyone will know, and no one else will ever touch you again! I saved you, don't you see? I saved you from my sister's fate. You are free now, little bird, as free as I allow."

I tossed the silken cords aside and quickly undid the ones holding her legs before drawing her into my lap, rocking her like a child and letting her cry into my shirt. I let my gaze travel along her bare, pale form, practically glowing in the dark room, and my eyes lit up. She was so beautiful, so soft, and now she was mine and mine alone. He would never touch her again. I stroked her hair as she sobbed, running my fingers along her back and smearing the blood, admiring the dark blotch in the mattress where it had soaked up her life's essence. I would have to replace it.

"Sssh," I crooned softly. "You're mine now, my darling, my pretty little bird, and I won't let anyone else harm you." I cackled, my dark eyes gleaming madly. "No one else will _ever_ touch you."


End file.
